Disclaimer: I do not own anything Harry Potter. I just like to play with the characters a bit on occasion. I also do not own the rights to Lenka's song Force of Nature. I make no profit from other's work.

A/N: This just popped into my head, so, I did a quick type and here it is. This fiction was inspired by the song Force of Nature by Lenka. Please listen if you get the chance. If you are reading any of my other three fics—The Cloaking Veela, Maelstrom Emotions, and Underwear: The JOY of Public Relations, these fics have not been abandoned. I repeat they will be finished. My life is in a bit of upheaval which has made writing supremely hard. I can't promise when the updates will come ,but they will. I Hope you enjoy this little rabbit hole.—inkImpressions

P.S. I'm looking for a beta. So … If anyone can help me or knows of someone who would be interested…? It would be wonderful, now on to the story.

P.P.S. Music lyrics are in bolds and italics. I will also post full lyrics and a link at the end of the fic.


Knowing Frustration

By: inkImpressions


Ah, a-whoo
You're
Completely bewitched
Caught under my spell
Ah, a-whoo
Completely bewitched
Your body
Will tell you
What to do

Hermione Granger new a lot of things, she had to of to have landed a job at Snape-a-Neering, an international, premier potions company with master and commander Serverus Snape at the helm; an unwilling survivor/war hero. She knew she was one of the best in the field of potioneering, if she damn well thought it herself. She knew that the herb-rarities rep. was as boring as cold porridge, droning about her nonsensically. She knew also, that the overripe Gouda impersonation, Bryce McConnell was leering down the obnoxiously tight and bright blouse of Minnie Coy. She knew that McConnell was over-shagging and under-paying Coy as well, the ponce, and all of the above in a way was a frustration. All of this added to what Hermione Granger knew, but certainly wasn't what was causing her to quite, uncharacteristically, look like a distracted, nonintellectual moron at a company think-tank!

She new she was without a doubt, completely, absolutely, sexually frustrated. It was all that sexy, annoying, frustrating man's fault too. She even used her emotions towards that imbecile to describe him, sexually frustrated, indeed!That little Miss Granger knew for a fact. She felt like she had been bewitched, placed under a spell, confounded. She couldn't believe a few meetings and innocent skin touches could elicit such a sensual frustration, especially from a petty school-time rival. Her body certainly knew what it wanted to do with the frustration. It was certainly telling her what to do. Imagining entirely inappropriate acts, when the only act she should be imagining was the finalization of the Bella&DOLCE / Snape-a-Neering Merger. She couldn't help thinking what type of an OCD afflicted CEO he was. Honestly, even Snape used his underlings for such things. But, no, he had to oversee and coordinate everything with her, twisting her in knots of sexual tension. Stupid CEO.

"Granger? Granger are you with us?" the covertly annoyed voice of Bryce McConnell cut through her mental musings.

"Pardon me McConnell; I believe I missed what you just said." Answered a guilty and sheepish Hermione; interrupted, as she was from her illicit thoughts. "I'm…I...I," slight head shake, "I, might be a bit under the weather at the moment, sorry." She offered with a sloppy, tentative smile.

A very, covertly, anxious looking McConnell glanced at the room while speaking, "Perhaps…Perhaps it's time we had a break in the meeting to refresh ourselves, yes? Then we can reconvene this evening to work on the Bella&DOLCE Merger." McConnell's beady-sharp eyes circulated the room after he spoke landing between Granger and Coy. "Miss Coy I'll need you to help my dictation and arrange briefs during our intersession, if... you don't mind bending into your time a bit?"

Coy nodded with a slight blush as words and mumbles of agreement and acquiescence could be heard about the room. Even in her current state, Hermione found it rather amazing that anyone showing off mammary glands a British White would be proud of could blush. Hermione felt like fate had just owled her a break with a break. Everyone, it seems, was glad of the temporary reprieve, if the hasty-haphazard movement of individuals in the conference room were anything to go by. Hermione, rather unfortunately really, in her foggy-frustrated-frame of mind was NOT, one of the hasty movers, therefore getting her ensnared by McConnell.

"Miss Granger," McConnell called out in a squelchy voice loaded with misguided concern. " may I speak to you a moment? In my office before you dart off on break?" His grating voice carried out to her even as he made his way to his large, in her opinion, undeserved office.

"Well hell!" she uttered under her breath with a roll of her eyes. "Mummy Fate may have a nasty, mean streak." She turned and followed the cheese wheel to his office with an indignant mental yell of "impertinent arse!"

McConnell in Hermione's opinion was a right manipulative bastard. Not, that she tried to have such negative thoughts about people, however McConnell was one of those people. Everyone has met one, the type of person that makes you believe that sometimes, sometimes there had to be genetic backwash. A true, negative oddity of nature, that was McConnell, and much to her chagrin he was currently the senior co-head of the department. Meaning, she, the subordinate co-head had to put up with his crap. He was a chauvinistic snot-rag, who thought she should give him full service, as should every female. Coy handled his physical service and she did his job by sealing the deals. She personally thought she would need the services of both solicitor and barrister if she continued working with him. At least dementors no longer guarded Azkaban, right?

As Hermione made her approach to his office McConnell had left his door open per usual. This gave the Snape-a-Neering staff a look at the rather uninspiring view he radiated from behind his desk. McConnell glanced up with his blah-beady eyes and perspiring brow when he heard the lock click as Hermione closed the door behind her.

"Granger," he immediately started in, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

Hermione affronted, responded with a sarcastic, "What could you possibly be refereeing to McConnell?"

"Oh, please Granger," he quipped nastily, no pretences. "You've been out of sorts, since the beginning of this deal. Under the weather my Aunt Tanana's life!" said with a look full of ire. "Oh, no you don't." He bellowed, when it looked as if Hermione was going to interrupt him, raising his arm in a shushing motion. Hermione glared, but remained in a clearly, frustrated silence. Hardly restraining herself and temper.

"You listen and you listen well, you daft witch. I will not lose this deal. Repeating Will NOT lose this deal. The biggest merger of my career. All…all because the company poster girl is having a BLOODY, QUARTER-LIFE CRISIS!" He stopped to gather breath.

"Really, McConnell..." Hermione scoffed angrily. "… that's all your worried about. Her job wasn't worth this. Snape was certainly punishing her, clearly he wanted her incarcerated. The merger wasn't worth this amount of degradation.

"I'm not finished, you war-glory cash cow. Bella&DOLCE, wants you as company representative, the CEO has been firm since his inquiry for merger. You went to school together and HE insists that you are the only person at the company he has any interest in working with on this. Meaning, YOU-WILL-PULL-YOUR-BLOODY-FEMALE-INSANE-SELF-TOGETHER." He spoke through gritted teeth as if speaking to an obstinate two-year old.

This being the extra gram of fat that broke the flying carpet—for Hermione Granger—for she quite forgot with whom she was speaking. Will call it a slight consequence of unsatisfied frustration; quite frankly, steam filled her kettle and blew the top.

"Are you quite finished, you unprepossessing pig?" spoke a deathly quiet Hermione. "Maybe, just maybe I need a bit of time to myself. This business quarter…I've what?" she questioned. "Closed five upward 10 million galleon deals, and you've closed… oh yes, that's right—NONE!" Hermione spoke in an angry, ruffled voice. "Maybe, just maybe, I'm not the one who is about to be thrown out on my: lazy, ignorant, sleazy, and not even worth my pay-grade ARSE…"

McConnell blanched "what did you just say to me you insufficient witch…"

"Of course YOU wouldn't know what I said to you…" she rebutted, "you'd need a thesaurus and dictionary, and then a children's edition to cross-reference, you inbred… geranium of a wizard."

McConnell's well ripened body seemed to swell in his indignation, "You really are a piece of work, you insane thing. You ambitious barren woman; no wonder your pool of suitors is dryer than the Atacama Desert. What man wants to bed a feministic work slag…"

Hermione so enraged spluttered, " Really, you, YOU … moldy ...gouda. Well, at least in my dry season no one ever served me for desert with wine, bread, and fruit you rumpled lump of cheese!"

TBC


A/N: Up next McConnell's reaction, meeting the Bella&Dolce CEO and much more…

Please review to let me know if I should continue this fiction, what you think, etc. it really helps me out. Please be as constructive as possible.

Thanks-a-MIllion ~inkImpressions